


Hazy Shade

by Elke Tanzer (elke_tanzer)



Category: Spider-Man (movie)
Genre: Character Study, Other, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2007, one of my best, recipient:octopedingenue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-24
Updated: 2007-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elke_tanzer/pseuds/Elke%20Tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small eddying swirl in the inevitable sweep of time for Peter, Eddie, Harry and MJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hazy Shade

Even the criminal element seems subdued today, Peter thinks, or maybe all the thugs are at home having holiday feasts with their happy thuggy families. He almost finds himself wishing someone really bad would do something really stupid right in front of him, so he'd have an excuse to work out some of his pent-up energy, but at that thought, he shakes his head.

He isn't really wishing for that kind of trouble. He isn't really wishing for any kind of trouble. But trouble always seems to find him. This time, it's his best girl and his best friend and somehow the best is always the worst kind of hurt, deep up under his chest where there's nothing he can do about it. And then there's his job, tangled and sticky in ways different from usual, because it's his best friend and his worst enemy and blood and darkness and death and betrayal and there's nothing he can do about that, either.

He's run his mind in circles, and the thoughts feel like ruts in salt-muddied roads, slushy and cold and just messy. There are no easy answers... there seem to be no answers at all.

* * *

Eddie bundles his coat more tightly around himself, as he waits for the camera shop owner to arrive. The man had promised him that he'd be open this afternoon, and he needs a new lens.

He shuffles his weight from one foot to the other, impatient.

* * *

The chill wind tugs at her scarf, and the tassels whip free over one shoulder. The air holds the promise of snow, but the dull grey clouds overhead hang close, muffling the sounds of the city, and not a single white flake falls.

MJ walks. She had been heading homeward, to get changed and dressed for the evening, but her steps have turned to wandering, even with the uncooperative weather. Down near the river, she pauses, lost in thought, until looking up, she sees a pale wisp of cobweb, larger than any spider should be able to spin, caught in the winter wind. It flutters, the free end snapping back and forth like a trapped, desperate thing, and then it's torn from its anchor. The strand is somehow light enough, or the wind strong enough, to carry it out over the dark river. She watches until it is lost to her sight against the clouds, then drops her gaze to the water. It's a murky shade of brown, with thin films of ice at the water's edge and around the jutting reminders of industrial piers and buildings.

In her mind there are flashes of fire, green bomb explosions, brutal metal arms grasping and flinging, and the groaning sounds of buildings collapsing, but she blinks, and there is nothing but the chill winter sky and the sluggish flow of murky water, slipping away time.

She really should get home. This evening she's supposed to play the role of the belle of the ball, and Harry is expecting her.

* * *

Harry smoothes his tie, rechecks his cufflinks. The wine which will start their evening is chilling, the glasses spotless, the driver and car all arranged... he is ready hours far too early, and there is nothing left to do but sit and listen to the whispers of the walls.

He pours himself a glass far stronger than wine, and tries unsuccessfully to ignore the ghost of his father.

* * *

The late afternoon fades. Deepening twilight begins to fall, and though the chill wind gusts make stuttering circles of trash in the streets, there is still no snow.

* * *


End file.
